It's the hard knock life for us. It's the hard knock life for us. 'Stead of treated we get tricked, stead of kisses we get kicked. It's the hard knock life.

Yes, I actually have gone insane. Maybe it's the weather, maybe it's something in the air or MAYBE it's because I have enough homework to sink the Titanic (iceberg included).

RadcliffeRox24: No offence taken, I'm not a blonde; brunette through and through. I so agree with the whole dumb-blonde Parvati and Lavender scenario. OMG! You're anti-Bush too? We are so long lost sisters! No, I was talking about the land of bogans and thongs (no, not g-strings, that's what we call what I think you call 'flips flops'?), good ol' Australia, and no, I don't have a kangaroo. I forgot to say that yes, I do learn French. It so rocks - I'm going there in two years. Thanks so much for reviews, you rock times ten.

KystalK8: Snap! I wake up at six, too. And I get home most nights at five, except on Tuesdays when I get home at seven thirty. But hey, shit happens.

I really feel like writing at the moment but I have no idea what about. This usually makes for a really crap chapter so I apologise in advice.

Chapter 10: (Go Lucy, it's your birthday) The Next Chapter

Unfortunately, Rose's cheerful disposition was not maintained for long. As the letters kept coming she became more and more agitated, muttering darkly to herself whenever a new batch of letters arrived.

Out of the three hundred and seventy six letters that were addressed to Rose, there were but two written in a positive nature, one from an old lady in Hampshire and the other from Mrs Weasley, who thought it proper to send her formal congratulations.

As time went by, Harry was becoming increasingly concerned by Rose's stress levels. Being kept inside day in and day out wasn't a bed of Roses. Not that she could roam the streets, either, she was a vulnerable, she was Harry Potter's only weakness. This being the case, doing anything by herself was out of the question. With Harry (along with Hermione and Ron)'s auror work at the Ministry piling up, Rose was left to her own defences, without even day time television to entertain her.

One evening, after spending the day burning hate letters, Rose flooed to Ron and Hermione's house for their weekly dinner. Harry had a meeting with Dumbledore and was joining them later.

"Hello?" She called, stepping out of the grate. She looked around; she had landed in the kitchen fireplace of the Weasley's home, just around the corner from Grimmauld Place. The room was warmly lit, the benches spick and span due to Hermione's cleanliness. Two Ministry cloaks hung from the wall, indicating they were home.

"Oh, hello," Hermione came bustling through the door, definitely on a mission. Taking out her wand, she began cooking, conjuring vegetables and the like out of cupboards.

"Do you want a hand? I don't think I'd be much help, mind you." Rose laughed, acknowledging Hermione's 'no-fuss' cooking method.

"No, thanks. All under control." She smiled

"Where's Ron?" Rose asked, planting her pregnant self onto a wicker chair.

"Upstairs, taking a rest. Absolutely pathetic; he'll be up as soon as he smells this, though." She waved nonchalantly at the food she was preparing. She turned around, wiping her forehead with her hand. "So, how are you?" she sighed.

"Great; if fat ankles are the thing this season." Rose laughed.

"That bad?" Hermione turned back to her food.

"Not really." Rose whined, dropping her head on the table. "I s'pose I'm just over reacting. I'm just so bored."

"Well, that's understandable. I'd hate to be locked up in that house, no one to talk to and all."

"Hmm," Rose groaned from under her arms.

"Well, at least there's something to look forward to. I go on maternity leave soon. We can keep each other company."

Rose looked up in mild excitement. "And when's that?"

"Three months?" Hermione replied apologetically.

"Great." Rose whimpered, her head falling back to the table. "I'm going insane!"

"Living with Harry can do to you." Ron sauntered in, sniffing the air. "What's for dinner?"

"Oh, hello," Rose grumbled, perching her head on her hands.

"Hello!" Ron replied cheerfully, picking from the food Hermione was preparing. "Hands off!" Hermione whacked Ron playfully, before giving him a kiss on the cheek. (AN: Worst joke ever. Only people from my shit hole school would get that.)

"So, where's our noble hero tonight, then?" Ron asked, wrapping his arms around Hermione's waist and spinning her away from her cooking.

Rose smiled, imagining that for a split second Harry would do something like that to her. No, he didn't think of her like that. Shaking away the thought she sighed. "Oh, he didn't tell you? Meeting with Dumbledore at the Ministry; Order stuff."

"Sounds like fun." Ron made to return Hermione's kiss on the cheek, but she stood on his foot, breaking free from his cosy grip. Taking a butterbeer out of a cedar cupboard Ron sat down opposite Rose at the table.

"So, what's your problem?" Ron asked, popping the cap of his drink.

Rose lifted her head up onto her crossed arms. "My problem, as you say, is that this is the first time in six days that I've been outside my own house. I've never been so bored in my life. I'll be stark raving mad by June."

"Really? Hermione's always been like that."

Earning himself a slap from his wife, Ron continued. "It can't be that bad, can it?"

"Yes it is. I'm a muggle. I can't just conjure up something to do. I don't work, I don't have any friends, I don't even have a pet. Yesterday I spent the day organising my sock draw. You don't think that's 'that bad'?" Rose replied grumpily.

Ron took a sip of his butterbeer. "Well, I propose you take it out on Harry. Merlin knows he needs a good box around the ears."

"Who says?" Harry asked, strolling into the kitchen. He was wearing his work clothes, obviously coming straight from the Ministry. Collapsing in a seat next to his wife, he leant over and patted her belly affectionately.

"So... why am I getting boxed around the ears?" He asked as Rose leaned over on to his shoulder.

"Why not?" Ron laughed. Harry kicked him directly in the shin under the table.

"Ron thinks I should take my boredom out on you." Rose smiled mischievously, straightening up. "Can we begin now?"

"No!" Harry exclaimed in disbelief. "What, is this gang up Harry night?" Rose looked unperturbed. "Think about James!" Harry pleaded. Rose's evil grin faded immediately.

"I'm not allowed to have any fun." Rose muttered sullenly.

"That's not true! You can have loads of fun in say... eleven years?" said Harry, motioning for Rose to lean back on his shoulder.

"James?" Ron asked, the wheels in head finally processing the last minute of conversation.

"Yes, James." Rose smiled, awaiting approval.

"Oh, that's sweet." cooed Hermione.

"Yeah, I like it. But there's no way in hell we're calling ours Arthur."

"Why not? I don't mind it." Hermione asked, nonchalantly.

"Because," he sighed matter-of-factly. "It's not the dark ages anymore." Hermione whacked him with a tea-towel.

"Other than Arthur, have you thought of any names?" asked Rose.

"Not really, I like Elizabeth, though." Ron rolled his eyes. "Ron doesn't; not that that really matters - Molly likes it, so it's settled."

"Well, I like it." said Rose.

"Tea's ready, so a toast, I think." Hermione announced, pouring Rose and herself some water.

"To James and Elizabeth!"

Okay, tres lame chapter and even lamer ending. I didn't know how to end it but shit happens.

Just thought I'd also say that HARRY POTTER AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE OPENS IN ONE YEAR TODAY. You can probably tell that I'm super pumped.

Okey Doke (does anyone remember that show? I loved it when I was eight) Okey Doke, okey doke, he'll land a helping hand)

Lots of love,

Lucy